Lazysupper

Koenji, the world and elsewhere


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Trump Is A Tornado Of Political Cognitive Dissonance

 

 

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Donald Trump is like a tornado of political cognitive dissonance, sowing destruction on (and pissing off) both sides of America’s political doppelganger dichotomy. Of course, this comes as no surprise, as he is truly a political outsider. He’s no more a Republican than Bernie Sanders is a Democrat. But both men were cognizant enough to know that there are only two roads to the White House. And no, one of them isn’t Pennsylvania Avenue. As the old joke goes, the American political system has one more party than the Soviet Union.

This is one reason there is such a backlash against him. Even with all of his supporters under the elephant’s flag he still has a vast number of opponents and detractors. Granted he has already started replenishing the swamp he promised to drain and long ago cozied up to the soulless suits at Goldman Sachs. But he is still implementing (or killing) policies, programs and agreements that must have rooms full of red ties steaming and screaming like a first year feminist at a campus rally.

I loved and hated two things he did on the same day last week: he killed the world-fucking TPP and green lit the world-fucking Keystone XL. In a political system—an entire society, in fact—anchored in an obdurate heap of two-sided issues, he is checking off items in both columns. That’s like Obama being pro-gun. A Democrat cannot be pro-gun. They must be pro-gun-control. In the same way, Trump should be pro-TPP. (Hell, even Obama was pro-TPP, further reinforcing this fake dichotomy. Two sides of the same coin, for idiots to toss and follow.)

Bernie and The Donald agreed on about half of the issues during that ridiculous reality-TV show America calls an election—they just disagreed (often greatly) on how to tackle them. He’s a narcissistic, dangerous bigot who’s probably going to leave office under impeachment or in a body bag, but at least he’s chipping away at a rotten system that needs to die.

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I Hope Trump Wins

I want Donald Trump to become the next President of the United States of America. Not because I think he deserves it. Or that he is the best choice for the country. Or the world. Or that I agree with any of his politics. Or even that I think he’ll do a good job. Quite the opposite, in fact.

I think he is a disgusting, repugnant human being. He represents greed and racism and heartlessness. He is a vulgar, arrogant narcissist who is a very conceivable threat to global political stability, the quality of life in America and, most importantly, the environment. The world’s environment.

With all that said, why would I want him to win? Because he is the culmination of America. He is America. And it’s due time that America reaps what it sows. Even if such a predicament holds great potential to harm the rest of us. America needs a bigger taste of America before it will change.

Ever more felicitous are Jeremiah Wright’s words that caused such a hullabaloo during Obama’s first presidential campaign: “America’s chickens are coming home to roost.

trumpFU


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America is Reality TV for the Rest of the World

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A Letter to America:

For the first 15 years of the 21st Century, American television audiences have been vacuously captivated by “Reality TV” programs. Scratch that — the captivation is not limited to those glued to the glowing flat screen. The “stars” of these shows infiltrate all avenues of media, spreading throughout all potential revenue and exposure streams, firmly establishing themselves as part of the American vernacular. At a point in history when most Americans probably don’t even know what vernacular means.

The effect of this reality barrage on the under-educated, over-inundated masses is shamelessly and blindly derivative of Fahrenheit 451. And those who notice just shake their heads. To gain any acknowledgement at all, opponents and pundits of this status quo must serve up their criticisms under the pretext of comedy (Jon Stewart). To stand on a platform without a laugh track, audience applause or box office receipts they are destined to be regarded outliers at best (Elizabeth Warren), wingnuts at worst (Bernie Sanders).

They joke about “fact resistant humans” running their country. Bankers are bailed out while The People are left to drown. Bodies pile up under an ever-expanding police state. They obtusely relinquish the gamut of their cherished constitutional rights, provided they can hang on to the Sacrosanct Second, even if it is in their cold, dead hands. Like dogs with a chew toy. And the best they can muster, this nation that was conceived by Revolution and birthed by Civil War, is to rally behind hashtags for a month, a week, or a day. The vernacular expands to include things like “hashtag activism” and “slacktivism” and nobody bats an eyelash. #OccupyWallStreet. #BlackLivesMatter. #Ferguson. And for the moment #Charleston. Until the next one, of course. And everybody knows there will be a next one.

And while the Distraction of the Month (Rachel Dolezal) unsurprisingly gets offered her own Reality TV show, and a Reality TV billionaire boss (Donald Trump) runs for President, Americans settle into their sofas with reruns or the summer season to keep them sated until their regular programming resumes. But to the rest of the world, there are no seasons. The show continues unabated and uninterrupted. We are not watching your TV shows. We are watching you. For you are the set-up, the delivery and the punchline. And even though the joke got old long ago, we can’t stop watching. But this is not because we consider you to be “Must See TV”. We don’t like what we’re watching. We just can’t change the channel because you’re holding the remote. Get off the sofa, America. It’s time to change the channel. Or turn it off.


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Dear Rioters, please redirect your riot.

Whenever State Power does something to raise the ire of the peons and proles, and rioting results, the rioting is always in the wrong place. The State does not care if you burn down your own home. I am always reminded of that scene in Goodfellas, in which Karen (the mobster’s wife), is reminiscing about the FBI searching her house. She reflects on how some of the other mobster wives would react to the agents.

Some wives, like Mickey Conway, used to curse at them and spit on the floor. She used to spit on her own floor. That never made any sense to me.

 Redirect The Riot